


First Bite

by yungidreamer



Series: My Precious Pet [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Cinderella Elements, F/M, Obsession, Vampire Bites, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yungidreamer/pseuds/yungidreamer
Summary: Seonghwa attends a house party, all part of keeping up appearances as a high ranking duke trying to hide his immortality. She is the the little nobody, there by luck or by fate, and when their paths cross he decides she is his, he just has to convince her of that fact.
Relationships: Park Seonghwa/Reader
Series: My Precious Pet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979509
Kudos: 21





	First Bite

Seonghwa sighed, trapped inside the stiflingly warm, dark carriage as it jostled along the road to the manor. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t like travel. It was all a massive waste of his time. But he had to do it once or twice every few years. Prove he was alive and well, caring for his land, and protecting the people. His somewhat distant lands provided some buffer to his official obligations.

He stayed in one of his fiefdoms for twenty or thirty years, however long he could hide the fact that he didn’t age, then left the land to a caretaker while he moved to his second, repeating the process when he had to or when the situation in one place became intolerable. War, famine, and unrest; they were all inevitable and sometimes he stayed and sometimes he didn’t. It mostly depended on what he could do and what he had to risk. Though he was incredibly deadly with his strength, agility, and speed, his inability to bear sunlight made him a useless soldier. At least these days they didn’t expect lords to go out at the head of their army.

This wasn’t war. This was almost worse. It was a useless social obligation, hours and days of mindless chatter and social interactions. This was going to be hell, but it had to be done. He had to be one of them occasionally, had to play the role, play the part he was obligated to be by society. At the first chance, he was going to leave and go back home. Thankfully most of the people who would be at the function were degenerates who slept the day away and loved to party all night, so at least his schedule wouldn’t make him stick out all that much. And food would be plentiful as the chaperones were always eager for a little tryst with a lord after their charges went to bed.

Seonghwa sighed and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, wishing he could sleep to pass the time. At least he could just let his mind wander to more pleasant things.

***

The halls were still relatively quiet in the manor. It was morning and the guests who were already there were mostly still abed and probably desperately hung over. She tiptoed down the hall to the library, having snuck out while her shared chaperone and her fellow charge were sleeping the day away. She needed another book to read, something to break the mind numbing boredom of the chatter in the ladies rooms. The sewing and knitting and the like didn’t bother her, she in fact, enjoyed them. It was the hours of meaningless chatter that killed her.

Nothing could make her care about the latest gossip about who had done the latest scandalous thing; like dropping their napkin at the last dinner or who forgot to use a properly sized parasol while taking a turn in the gardens. She didn’t care who had done what and, thankfully, it was never about her. Being barely in the class that allowed her to be here and having no relations who were of much more import, no one cared what she did so long as she never stepped outside of her station. Never presumed to be more than she was supposed to be. And that suited her just fine.

Slipping in amongst the tall wooden shelves, she searched for the section she had discovered on her last trip, determined to pick up the book she had been thinking of since she spotted it on the shelf on her last trip.

“Where was it, where was it,” she muttered to herself. “I know it was somewhere around here.”

“What were you looking for?” A voice drifted in from behind her, startling her. Spinning on her heels she turned to find a man behind her, a stranger who must have joined the party sometime after she had retired to her room the night before. What was he doing here in the dim library? No one was ever up at this hour aside from the servant. 

She paused, taking in the figure that seemed to have appeared from the ether to loom behind her. He was tall and slim and impeccably dressed in something a few years out of fashion. Given the perfect state of his clothes and the ornate trim and frippery, she guessed it was a personal preference rather than old clothes he was simply making do with. His hair was dark and glossy, not powdered or covered in a wig, as was currently fashionable. From what she could see in the dim corridor of the shelves, he was pale and in possession of beautiful angular features that fit his oval face perfectly. The expression on his face had the sort of effortless disdain that only an aristocrat could manage.

“Just a book,” she curtsied, knowing her place and what was expected of her in the presence of such people. “I didn’t realize anyone was here. I apologize for the intrusion.” She bobbed again as she backed away, looking to escape, knowing how many things could go wrong in her position if she was found alone with someone like him.

“Wait,” his voice was soft but held a command to it, something that said he was used to being heard and obeyed. She froze, raising only her eyes as she waited for whatever he would ask of her. “What book?”

“The City of Ladies,” she replied softly, dropping her eyes to the floor.

“Come,” He said, turning and going back down the aisle. Falling into step behind him, they moved to the next row of shelves. He went in a few steps before turning to one side and running his finger along the spines of the books on one side until he found what he was looking for. Pulling a small leather bound volume off the shelf, he turned it in his hand to double check the cover, then handed it to her.

Blinking, she looked at what he had handed her. Pressed into the cover of the book in Old English typeface was _The City of Ladies by Christine de Pisan_. How had he known where this was, she wondered to herself.

“Is that not what you were looking for?” He asked, when she merely looked at the book in her hand with no response.

“Oh yes, it is,” she nodded, pulling herself together. “Thank you. I’ll leave you to your business.” Without another word, she turned and made her way back out of the library as quickly as she could without looking back.

***

The day had passed quickly and the incident in the library seemed to have gone unremarked upon by anyone else. _He probably didn’t mention it to anyone_ , she told herself, feeling a sense of relief at the thought. She probably wasn’t worth the breath to him and had been dismissed from his mind the moment she had closed the library door behind her.

Sitting in front of the small vanity in the corner of her room, she looked at herself in the mirror, lit by the single flickering taper she had on the tabletop. Her nimble fingers pinned the last errant curls up on her head before picking up the furry puff from the ceramic canister and giving her hair a light dusting of powder. She pulled the towel from her shoulders and shook it out the window to get rid of the dust it had caught. Giving herself one last glance in the reflection to check for anything out of place, she blew out the candle and headed out of her closet sized room to join her chaperone and the other charge to head to dinner.

The older woman, paid by both of their families to watch over their unmarried daughters as they attended the house party, was gushing over Emma, the other girl who was her charge, as she dressed and prepared for the meal. They were both there ostensibly in search of suitable partners of the right class also in attendance at the party, but she was smart enough not to hold such illusions. Unlike the girl being properly pampered and prepared, she knew she was there mostly to pass the time and fulfill her social obligations as a spare girl to fill out the gender balance. For most everyone else there, the coming hours were the highlight of the day, the thing they most looked forward to. For her, it vied for the dullest. But alas, her attendance was required.

Taking a seat off toward the side, she waited patiently as they put the last details on the other girls outfit. A diamond comb was tucked into the curls on one side and a string of pearls were tied around her neck. Their chaperone gave her hair a few last pokes before having the girl stand so she could brush out the last crimps in her skirt. She was her best hope at landing a sizable reward for landing one of them a good partner. It was only logical that she would pour her attention into Emma.

“Alright, let’s go,” Mrs. Collins said motioning at her as she took Emma’s arm to walk the other girl to the dining room. She happily stood up and followed them as they made their way through the long halls to the dining room. _At least dinner would only last so long tonight_ , she thought to herself. There would be a small ball tonight after dinner where people could drink and dance and mingle well into the wee hours of the morning if they wished. She, very likely, wouldn’t. Instead finding a good time to bow out, go back to her room, and read in the privacy of her little closet until she fell asleep.

Servants at the doors to the dining room bowed as the ladies passed, going to find their seats for the evening along the long, wide table that stretched the whole length of the large dining room. It was a classic room, decorated in a late baroque style that gave the room a heavy, dignified feel. The curved ceiling, covered in vivid scenes of figures, fruits, and plants made from plaster moldings that glinted with gilded accents. Busts filled oval frames above the doors and some windows that always made her feel like she was being watched and judged by people long since dead. _Do you really think you belong here_ , they seemed to ask. _Don’t worry_ , she always assured them silently, _I won’t be here that long_.

Taking her seat, she placed her napkin in her lap, letting her eyes look at the sparkling setting on the table before her. It was a safe place to look and didn’t invite nosy questions on inane conversations. There would be enough of that once everyone was seated and eating. Reverend Norwich would be seated to her right and would want to ask her if she had read her bible that morning. To her left would be Edward Johnson Esquire who wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes from dropping the cleavage of the women on that end of the table, more so with each sip of wine. At least it would only be a couple of hours.

Reverend Norwich arrived, taking his seat and giving her a bob of his head, which she returned. Thankfully, he turned his attention to the woman on the other side of him first, giving her just another moment of respite. All too soon, though Mr. Johnson arrived and, with no one to the other side of him, his attention was quickly turned on her.

“You look lovely this evening,” he told her, leaning a little too close as he spoke.

“Thank you,” she replied, giving him an obligatory smile that never quite reached her eyes.

“The dress, is it new?” Mr. Johnson asked, his eyes lingering on her neckline.

“No,” she shook her head, adjusting the gauzy fichu she was ever so glad she had worn this evening. “I wore it the first evening here, but I believe you hadn’t arrived yet.”

“It’s very, very pretty,” he stated with a small nod. “The pink looks lovely against your skin.”

“I want this seat,” said a surprisingly familiar voice from behind them.

“Pardon?” Mr. Johnson said, turning in his seat to look at the interloper who was interrupting their _conversation_. There he stood, the man from the library, and for the life of her, she had no idea why.

“I said,” he repeated in clipped tones. “I would like this seat.”

“Your Grace,” the hostess, the Marchioness of Umberland, drew close, her voice slightly breathless from her hurry to join them. “Your seat is next to mine, near the center as our guest of honor.”

“Lady Umberland,” the man greeted, taking her hand and giving it a light brush of his lips. “Forgive me, but I would like to choose my own seat this evening.”

“But, the seats…” her voice trailed off and her eyes flicked over the three of them for a second before pursing her lips. “Right, please follow me, Mr. Johnson.” The man stood up, following the hostess to the other side of the table while she reworked the seating to keep the gender integration and the ranks of those seated… appropriate.

Seonghwa took his seat beside her, scooting his chair in before waving at a passing servant to get him a new napkin as Mr. Johnson, in his rush to vacate said spot, had taken his with him to his new seat. Having received the acknowledgement from the man, he turned his attentions to the rather flustered woman beside him.

“Are you enjoying the book?” He asked her, fixing his dark eyes on her profile.

“Pardon?” She finally turned to look at him with wide almost startled eyes.

“The book you borrowed from the library this morning,” he pressed. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes,” she responded tentatively. “I haven’t gotten far, but I do like what I have been able to read of it.”

“Good,” he gave her a small nod. “It’s been a while since I read it, but I remember finding it interesting.”

“You read it?” Unable to keep the surprise out of her voice, she continued to stare at him.

“Reading fills the time and I do rather enjoy it,” the corner of his mouth twitched, almost hinting at a smile.

“Reading takes me to the world I cannot see myself,” she replied, turning to look back at her place setting.

“Is it your dream to travel, to see the world?” He watched, waiting for her reply.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “There are things I would love to see, but I suppose I want to understand the world most of all.”

“Intelligence is as much the ideal foundation for a conversation as it is for a city of ladies,” Seonghwa said, returning to reference the book he had located for her.

“I’m not sure many share that opinion.” A rueful smile tugged at her lips. She set her chin to a haughty angle before parroting just a few of the things she had heard since she had arrived at the party. “No man wants a woman whose mind is outside the home… An educated woman makes a terrible wife; she is never satisfied and always argues, thinking she knows so much more than her husband… What is the use in a woman who can do more than read the Bible and calculate basic household finances?”

“Amen,” said the Reverend from the other side of her, having caught the last few sentences she had spoken but not the context. “A woman who is educated beyond the role that God has given her, is destined to misery and constantly reaching beyond what she is destined for.”

“I could not possibly disagree more,” Seonghwa sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Why would any man wish to tie himself to someone who is barely capable of holding a conversation? And if she is to be the mother of one’s children; to nurture and raise them, would you not want a woman who could educate and cultivate brilliant children?”

“Perhaps it is different at your station, Your Grace,” the Reverend allowed, giving a deferential bow. “But it is the fate of most women to live simple lives and those who dream of the world beyond that will find only disappointment.”

“A simple life need not be in contradiction to one of curiosity,” Seonghwa couldn’t help but retort. The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the soup course as a small army of servants placed low, shallow bowls on the charger plates in front of them which was then filled with a ladle of clear brown broth. 

The conversation of the room dulled slightly, replaced by periodic tinking noises as spoons made contact with the fine china. She picked up her bouillon spoon, bringing the soup to her lips, hoping that the contentious conversation was done between her two dinner companions. Much as she was enjoying seeing the reverend taken down a peg, she couldn’t help but feel like a rag being pulled between two dogs as they competed for possession of it.

“Why did you come to the party?” Seonghwa asked from beside her, having finished his soup and laid his spoon in the now empty bowl, ready to be taken away.

“The usual reasons, I suppose,” she set down her spoon, having finished enough to satisfy her. “To pass the time and, my father hopes at least, to meet a potential husband.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how forward it sounded, as if she were dangling herself as a prospect for him. “I didn’t mean… I myself don’t think the prospects are terribly promising for me.”

“No one suitable or you aren’t finding yourself much in demand in that category?” He asked as the wave of servants returned, taking the bowls and replacing them with dinner plates.

“Perhaps both, perhaps for the same reasons,” she admitted. “None of those in attendance find me appealing and the sentiment is mutual.”

“Taste, or lack thereof, cannot be accounted for,” he commented enigmatically. Their conversation continued through the courses as they came and went, mostly consisting of him asking her something and her replying. It wasn’t that she wasn’t curious about him, but she didn’t know if it was really her place to pry. Given the gap in their stations, she couldn’t be sure of his reaction if she did.

When the meal was finally over, Lady Umberland stood up calling everyone’s attention to her as she asked them all to find their escorts and make their way to the ballroom. She started walking towards Seonghwa, expecting him, as the highest ranking male visitor to the party, to escort her. Seonghwa however turned away when he saw her moving toward him, taking the arm of the woman he had sat beside for dinner. Lady Umberland quickly sought out the second highest ranked man and headed down the hall, leading the way to the ballroom.

The guests quickly broke apart, moving into groups of milling, chatting people as they waited for the music to start. Seonghwa took her off to one side of the ballroom, finding an empty seat for her and taking a relaxed stance beside it. She could feel the eyes of others from around the room landing on them with a questioning intensity. The attention was cloying and she wondered how long it would be before she could escape.

“Would you like to dance?” Seonghwa asked as the quartet began to play the first song. 

“I… if you would like,” she agreed, coming to her feet. Taking her hand, he led her out onto the open floor, not yet filled with any other couples. In time with the music they moved through the steps of a minuet. It gave him an excuse to hold her hand as they swayed and dipped in time with the music. Her hand was warm and soft and he couldn’t help but imagine what her skin would feel like under his lips. 

All too soon, the music stopped and Seonghwa had to release her hand and give her a bow. She returned it and quickly made her way back to her seat, almost hoping he wouldn’t follow when she caught sight of her chaperone standing near it, her eyes boring into both of them as they returned.

“Your Grace,” Mrs. Collins bobbed, giving him a quick obligatory bow. “I came to take my lovely charge off your hands. You have been so kind to give her your attention this evening, but I am certain there are many others you wish to see this evening. We can leave you to that. Come along, young lady.”

“I am perfectly happy with the company I have,” he said, stopping her as she stood up from her seat to follow her chaperone.

“Pardon, Your Grace,” Mrs. Collins tried to sound diplomatic. “But I cannot allow you to monopolize my charge when you patently have no intentions of consequence for her.”

“Frankly, madam, you have no idea of my intentions,” Seonghwa replied flatly.

“You can’t possibly be entertaining the notion of courting her,” the woman gave a dismissive chuckle. “She’s the daughter of a barrister.”

“I have intended on doing so since I first laid eyes on her,” he stated. “My conversation with her over dinner simply served to confirm my first instincts.”

“Pardon?” The older woman sputtered.

“I thought I might wait to ask her in a more private setting,” Seonghwa took a step closer to her and put his hand on the back of her chair possessively. “But I suppose I can make my intentions clear here.” He came around to face her, going to his knee in front of her as she sat frozen in her chair. “Consent to be mine and you will never want for anything. You don’t have to say yes now, just say that you will consider my offer and you can retire for the evening.” She nodded silently, satisfying Seonghwa who then said quietly, leaning closer, “If you wish to speak about this tomorrow, you know where to find me.”

With that, he stood up, stepped back and gave her a little bow. Taking the opportunity he offered, she gave him a curtsy and quickly made her way back to her room with her chaperone following behind.

“What did you say to him,” the woman asked in a harsh whisper as she closed the door to the main room. “How did you even meet him? Have you met him before?”

“Not before coming here,” she replied, taking a seat at her vanity in her small room. “It was pure chance that we crossed paths.”

“I dare say your father will be pleased with this if you can actually land him,” Mrs. Collins sighed. “I have to go back so I’ll lock the door behind me. I’ll only say this; if you choose to pursue this and it ends in ruin it won’t be on me. A scandal would not touch a man of his station but it will be all you are remembered for. It is your risk and your reward to seek.”

With that she was left alone to contemplate how her life had so quickly, in a mere course of hours, been turned upside down.

***

Seonghwa retired to the library after the party, sitting himself down in front of a pile of papers related to his estate as he tried to pass the hours of the early morning. Waiting. Surely she would come. Surely she felt that same magnetic pull as he. When his manservant arrived to check on him that morning, he had tasked him with obtaining a marriage licence from the local church or magistrate, whoever could procure it most readily and most expeditiously. The man had uncharacteristically let a flash of surprise cross his face for a moment before suppressing it beneath his usual mask of neutrality. He simply nodded and ventured out to do as he was bid.

It was not until well after the noon hour that he heard the soft click of the library door unlatching and then being softly closed again that she finally arrived, drawing him from his work. He knew it was her by the soft sound of her footsteps and the almost timid entrance into the space. Anyone else who would have come would have behaved as if they owned the place, or at the very least, like they were sure of their place there; they knew they belonged.

He hurried to stand, walking quickly to meet her as she crept in the dimly lit room. He met her as she paused near the last set of shelves by the doorway before the room opened up. Her eyes met his as he came near and he could practically feel the tension roll off her in waves.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, taking her hand and guiding her to the seats arranged comfortably around the unlit hearth. “Please, sit.”

“Thank you,” she agreed, taking a seat in a broad square velvet and wood chair to one side. “I believe we have a little to discuss.”

“Yes,” he agreed, taking a seat in the chair nearest to her. “We do.”

“Do you mind if I ask you… why?” She ventured nervously.

“Why what,” Seonghwa cocked his head to the side as he looked at her.

“Why me? Why all of a sudden you decided… I’m not even sure what,” she trailed off.

“It’s simple,” he stated, leaning forward. “I want you; I find you fascinating. You were meant to be mine and I see no point in dancing around that conclusion.”

“But, why?” she pressed, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Do you not feel the same?” He asked, the first hint of doubt entering his thoughts.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I know nothing about you and I would have not have dared to dream that you would be interested in me. Men like you don’t take note of women like me.”

“There are… few men like me,” he replied.

“And women like me are rather common,” she softly challenged.

“You are not common,” He shook his head. “ You are fascinating. The fact that others have overlooked it only speaks to their idiocy, not your quality.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” her chest felt inexplicably tight.

“Give me just a little of your time to convince you,” Seonghwa proposed. “If you don’t want to sign the marriage licence when it has been procured, I will leave you alone. But give me a chance.”

“Alright,” she agreed, standing up and smoothing her skirt. Seonghwa stood as well, taking advantage of the moment to step forward and draw her into a kiss. She froze as his lips brushed over hers, slightly dry and cool as they pressed against hers. It went unnoticed that no breath caressed her cheek as he held her face between his hands, gently savoring her lips. He smelled faintly of sandalwood, paper, and ink. Her eyes drifted closed, softening under his touch.

She felt so alive under his touch; so warm, so vivid. Touching her was like facing the embodiment of every temptation he had ever faced. He could hear the faint stutter of her heart at his touch like a trapped bird fluttering in its cage. So delicate, so fragile… so tempting. He wanted to crush her to him, to hold her close. Her warmth was a delicate flickering flame that he was torn between wanting to protect it and wanting to curl his chilled hands around to the point of nearly suffocating it’s light as he tried to absorb as much of the radiant heat as he could.

“Will you have tea with me this afternoon?” He asked, finally managing to pull himself away.

“I-- yes,” she nodded, taking a step back and bringing her hands up to cover her flaming cheeks. “I believe you can send for me and Mrs. Collins at the appropriate hour.” She turned quickly and made her way out of the library while she could, a frisson of nerves tickling the back of her neck.

***

He spent the next three days by her side at every opportunity while he courted and coaxed her into letting him into her mind and heart. They took tea together in the afternoons under the somewhat distant but watchful eye of her chaperone. In the evenings he sat with her during dinner, discouraging any of the other men in attendance from socializing with her as he stayed, hovering over her, even when they were not speaking. He was just there, always.

On the evening of the third day, her father, having been summoned by a very distressed Mrs. Collins, arrived half expecting to find his daughter ruined or the whole of the house party in shambles. Rather he found the house, perhaps tense, but otherwise unremarkable. When he located his daughter he was somewhat flummoxed by the sight of a very well dressed and handsome man hovering silently beside her. He decided it must be the man who had caused the uproar but how someone who seemed as cold and staid as a marble statue could have done so baffled him.

With his presence, at the moment, unnoticed he waited and watched. His daughter seemed perfectly at ease in his presence and the others in the room looked at them with an occasional curiosity or perhaps envy, but little else. After a long few moments, she turned to address the man and for the first time there seemed to be a warmth to him as he leaned in and spoke to her quietly. A faint smile emerged at the corner of his lips and a warmth and attentiveness burned behind his eyes.

Deciding he had seen enough, he stepped into the room, making himself known to the occupants including his daughter. He couldn’t help but think how much she resembled her mother as her eyes landed on him and she grinned as she stood up to greet him, her feet carrying her to him with an effortless elegance.

“Papa, what are you doing here?” She asked as he drew her into a warm hug.

“Mrs. Collins insisted I come here myself and sort out whatever was going on,” her father replied. “Though I must confess I am not sure what exactly that is.”

“She was right to ask you to come but I believe she may have made things sound much more dire than they are,” she laughed, looking over her shoulder to where the mysterious figure was waiting. Upon seeing her turn towards him, the man stepped closer, coming up alongside her. “It seems that I might be engaged.”

“That is good news, my dear,” he assured her, taking her hands while giving the man beside her another assessing look. “So long as it is to someone who would make you happy.”

“I would like to introduce myself properly sir,” Seonghwa said from beside her. “Perhaps we ought to speak privately for a moment.” Her father nodded at the offer, motioning for him to lead the way to wherever he thought best. Seonghwa turned and led the way out of the main room and into a small side study, taking a seat in one of the plush armchairs and crossing his legs. Her father followed suit, taking the chair opposite, un intentionally mirroring the younger man’s stance.

“I’ve decided I am going to marry your daughter,” Seonghwa stated in such a perfectly matter of fact manner that her father could not help but blink blankly in response before clearing his throat to respond.

“I believe it would be customary to _ask permission_ to do so,” her father returned, feeling a bit prickly at his surety.

“I did,” Seonghwa stated simply. “I asked her.”

Her father was again left blinking. In theory he actually liked that answer as he did believe it was up to his daughter who she would marry. He wanted her to be happy and very much believed in her and trusted her judgement. Still, something about the haughty certitude of the man irked him somehow. Yes the man outranked him, yes he agreed with his assertion in theory, but could he not at least pretend to want his approval?

“While I am glad that you have made her opinion in the matter of such priority,” her father granted. “I would be remiss if I did not seek to ensure that your intentions toward my daughter were good and that you intend to care for her as the treasure that she is in my eyes. I could give her away to no one who would care for her with less devotion than I do.”

“She will never want for anything,” Seonghwa replied. “Every comfort of life will be hers. I can promise that any intellectual pursuit that catches her fancy she will have the means to pursue. I would not seek to put her into a box that demands she is anyone but who she wishes to be.”

“Do you love her?” Her father asked bluntly.

“Love is a complicated word,” Seonghwa waved away the world dismissively. “And love fades like a picked bloom. I would not reduce my feelings for her to something so trivial as love. I can promise to be devoted to making her happy for as long as we are both alive.”

“Perhaps I am a strange man,” Her father sighed. “But I have never considered love to be a trivial thing. I would say I love her mother still, though she has now been dead for longer than I had the privilege of having her as my helpmate and companion.”

“You are fortunate to have had such a love that lasted so long,” he commented. 

“Pardon me for saying so,” her father couldn’t help but observe. “You seem quite young to be so jaded.”

“I am, perhaps older than I look and have long been accused of acting older than my years,” Seonghwa laughed wryly. “Just think of me as an old soul.”

“Whatever word you choose to put to it,” her father steepled his fingers and touched them to his chin. “If you can promise that you will do whatever is in your power to make my girl happy, I suppose I can give you my blessing.”

“Thank you,” he said as he stood up. “I know having your blessing would be a relief to her. I believe the marriage license will be available to be signed tomorrow.”

“So soon?” His eyebrows shot up at the news. “Is it really necessary to rush so? No wedding? No vows in a church.”

“I am not fond of churches,” he explained without really explaining anything at all. “But I would not object to a small ceremony here, perhaps tomorrow evening.”

“Not to repeat myself but, so soon?” Her father asked, his chest feeling slightly hollow. “I won’t even have time to get her a dress or gather her trousseau.”

“She needs nothing more than the clothes she has brought with her as far as I am concerned,” Seonghwa shrugged. “I will provide her with clothes that befit her new station. You can send any of her belongings she will want to my residence. I can provide anything she needs, but I cannot replace things of sentimental value.”

“I will send them along when I return home,” her father swallowed past a lump in his throat. “I do hope you won’t object to an occasional visit by her old father now and again.”

“You are welcome to visit our home,” Seonghwa said simply.

“Thank you,” her father bobbed as he also stood. “I am relieved to hear that, if I am honest.”

“You can come soon and assure yourself that your daughter is well,” Seonghwa offered in a tone that might be mistaken for kind as he opened the door to the main room, allowing her father to exit first before he closed the door behind them.

They found her waiting for them, keeping busy with her nose buried in a book, though she had clearly been keeping half an eye on the door, waiting for them to emerge. When she saw them step out, she closed the book on her lap and stood up, looking at them expectantly. Her father came to her, a smile on his face as he took her hands in his.

“Congratulations my beautiful girl,” he pulled her into a hug. “I shall miss having you at home to stop me from letting my work keep me up too late.”

“Maybe you will have to find a new wife who will make sure you will take care of yourself,” she suggested, only half joking.

“Perhaps,” he chuckled. “Or I can just listen to the spirit of your mother nagging at me and do as I know she would have told me to.”

“Mmm, so long as you actually listen,” she scolded lovingly.

“I will, I will,” he promised. “Would you perhaps have a private dinner with me this evening? One last meal, just the two of us.”

“Yes, of course,” she agreed. “I’ll go tell the kitchen that we will take our portions in your room, if that is alright.” 

“Excellent,” he nodded. “I believe I will go now and wash the road off me before then. Give me an hour and then please join me.”

“Alright,” she replied, watching as her father straightened his jacket and headed out to ask after his room.

“Just one thing,” Seonghwa caught her arm as she started to go to find a servant to send word to the kitchen. “When you are done with dinner, come to my room. There is something I wish to discuss with you tonight, alone.”

She nodded in acknowledgement and he let her go, heading out of the surprisingly busy library to see to dinner.

***

It was late by the time she left her father, but most of the guests of the houseparty were still busy with dinner and the after meal socializing so there was no one in the halls to take note of her sneaking to Seonghwa’s room. She knocked lightly on the door, still half unsure if she really should have come. But, now with her father’s blessing, it seemed more certain than ever that she would _actually_ become the Duchess of Harrington tomorrow. Seonghwa answered the door quickly, indicating that he had been eagerly awaiting her arrival. He shepherded her inside, closing the door firmly before he pulled her into his arms and taking her lips in a hungry kiss. He had been starving for the taste of her ever since that first kiss in the library, her taste and warmth teasing him with the mere memory.

After a moment he forced himself to pull back. He had to tell her tonight, give her the chance to back out now or decide to go forward, knowing what he was. With a strength and determination he had not been sure he had in him, he stepped away from her, leaving her blushing and dazed in the wake of his passion. She looked tempting and delicious standing there in his rooms, ready for the taking.

“I don’t mean to sound as though I object to this,” she said, touching her lips at the lingering sensation of the kiss, “But if this is why you asked me to come, I think it is best if we wait until tomorrow to do anything more.”

“It isn’t,” he admitted, shifting on his feet. If he could have blushed, he would have. “I want you to understand what it means to bind yourself to me. I want to know that you are choosing this life with me freely and with a full understanding.”

“If you are wondering if I intend to try and abstain from what I understand to be my wifely duties,” her eyes flicked to the tall, damask draped four-poster bed on the far side of the room. “I do not, but I would still ask to wait one more day.”

“I am comforted to know that, given how short a time we have known one another,” he said with a calm formality that did not match the lustful turmoil inside him. “I have a… special requirement of my wife.”

“If it’s about having an heir,” she tried to reason out what he must be trying to get at. “I have no reason to believe I would not be capable of providing you with one. I know that it is vital for men of title.”

“I cannot have children,” Seonghwa replied plainly.

“How…” her brow crinkled as she looked at him. “How do you know?”

“For the same reason that I have a special requirement that I would ask of you as my companion,” he stepped forward and took one of her hands and placed it on his chest. “Those who are like me are simply incapable of producing new life. Is it important to you to have children of your own?”

“To be honest,” she gave him a self effacing smile. “I had expected to never marry which means I long ago accepted the idea that I would never have a child. I remember losing my mother when she had my brother who followed her not long after she passed. It could perhaps be a blessing not to risk such a thing, though I am still not sure how you know that you cannot have children.”

“Should I show you what I would ask of you?” He questioned, taking half a step towards her.

“I suppose that is the simplest way for me to understand,” she agreed, nerves tingling with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

“Come here,” he reached for her, taking her to stand in front of the unlit hearth. Two candelabras sat on either end, providing the room with flickering light from their tapers. Behind them, in a frame on the wall was a glinting mirror. Seonghwa positioned her to stand facing herself in the reflection and stood behind her, his dark eyes locking with hers as he put his hands on her shoulders. His fingers gently pulled the gauzy fabric of her fichu from where it was tucked in at her neckline, tossing it away and onto a nearby chair. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something but seemingly thought better of it, instead biting her lip as she continued to watch him in the reflection.

“My precious, do you trust me?” He asked as he brushed the hair away from the side of her neck.

“Yes,” she replied. She couldn’t have told you why, but she did trust him.

“This might sting at first,” he instructed gently as he pulled her back towards him and leaned closer to her, breaking eye contact as he looked at the soft flesh of her neck. “But don’t pull away. I promise it will feel good.”

She didn’t reply or even nod, instead, simply allowed him to tilt her head to the side as she watched, almost as if she were seeing it done to someone else in that reflection. Seonghwa kissed the side of her neck with his cool, slightly dry lips, feeling the gushing pulse of her blood just below the soft veil of her skin. Her scent wafted off her, carried by the very vital heat of her body out to tease his nose. He knew she would taste sweet to him, like the finest candy. All human blood tasted delicious and was satisfying as it coated his mouth each time he fed. It was the only thing that truly held taste for him like this and each person tasted different, tasted like _them_ . They carried the hint of what they ate and anything else they put in or on their bodies, which naturally made some more tempting and delicious than others, but they still tasted mostly of whatever their innate flavor was, He could smell someone and know largely how they would taste, the good and the bad; and she smelled _good_. 

His tongue darted out, getting some small first taste. He had spent so much of the day with her, waiting for her, or mired in thoughts about her, he hadn’t yet taken the time to feed. The borrowed warmth and life he took with each feeding had diminished and the thought of getting it from her excited him. Opening his mouth, he set his teeth on her skin and looked up to meet her eyes which had gone slightly wide as she watched him… and still she did not pull away. Snaking one arm across her chest to hold her to him, he bit down, his fangs sinking into her neck with a fluid ease. 

She stiffened and let out a small gasp at the sensation, the flash of pain. But almost as soon as she felt it, the pain vanished and was replaced by a strangely insistent pleasure that seemed to flow through her as if it could replace the blood he took. Her heart fluttered under his hand and her body ached for something, she knew not what.

As Seonghwa fed, watching as pleasure bloomed on her face like the evening primrose at dusk. Her gasp became a breathy moan as she leaned into him, giving herself over to him and the pleasure he bestowed upon her. She tasted as good as he had thought she would, perhaps better, and it took immense resolve to pull himself back when he had eaten enough. With a gentle brush of his tongue, the wounds closed, leaving only two small pink marks in their place. They would surely go unnoticed, or at least unremarked upon.

Her legs felt weak and she couldn’t help but sag in his arms as the pleasure faded, leaving her fuzzy headed and slightly dazed. Lifting her into his arms, he sat down in the large, old armchair, cradling her in his lap. He held her, murmuring to her softly as the feelings faded, leaving her mostly tired and slightly confused.

“What are you?” She finally asked.

“Vampire,” he whispered, as if the lower volume might make the word less threatening to hear.

“I didn’t think they were real,” she said back, continuing to let her head rest on his shoulder.

“Not everything they say is true,” He answered, giving her comforting pats and strokes.

“What is, then?” She asked, letting her head remain resting on his shoulder.

“I can see in near total darkness,” he began. “I am stronger and faster than I was before, long ago. I seem to be cursed to live forever like this and can quickly heal nearly any injury so long as my body is largely intact and my heart is not pierced by wood or silver. I cannot go in the sun or even the direct reflection of its light.”

“Does a bite feel as good for you as it does for those you bite?” Her question was honest, holding only the faintest hint of embarrassment at the half hidden admission.

“I only remember the feel of it from your side once and it is different,” he considered, thinking back to what he remembered of it. “But feeding from you gives me great pleasure if that is what you are wondering.”

“Then does that replace _lying_ with me for you?” She sat up straighter, wanting to look at him as she asked. “Is that why you can’t have children?”

“No,” he smiled as he took one of her hands and gently guided it to rest on his very ready erection under the layers of his clothing. “I am quite capable of that as well, but we will save that for tomorrow… if you will still come.”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Then for tonight, give me one more kiss and then I will let you go on your way.” He reached for her, turning her face to his with his now warm hands cupping her soft cheeks. Her lips parted under his touch and she allowed his tongue to venture in to dance with hers. The faint tang of iron teased her taste buds as he kissed her and the brief thought that it was the taste of herself fluttered through her mind as inconsequentially as a fall leaf caught in a fall gust.

Breaking the kiss, Seonghwa stood them both up, giving her some small distance before taking her hand and guiding her to the door. He brushed a hand over her cheek, letting it trail down over the side of her neck where he had bitten it.

“Tomorrow I will make you mine for all the world to see,” he vowed before letting his hand drop and opening the door to the hall with a quiet click.

“Tomorrow,” she nodded once before stepping into the hall and slipping away before anyone could notice her presence.


End file.
